


Succor

by BlueFireBird



Category: NCIS
Genre: Comfort, F/M, First Time, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-19
Packaged: 2017-11-15 22:31:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueFireBird/pseuds/BlueFireBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Gibbs’ comfort that Abby needs, but what about the man himself? Post-ep tag to 10x02 'Recovery'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Abby’s Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything but the DVDs. Copyright acknowledged to the respective holders. Thanks to all involved in the production of the TV series for the inspiration.

He knew better, he really did – his gut, a finely-honed sixth sense, or just plain familiarity with those he’d worked with for over 10 years; whatever you wanted to call it. He just _knew_ that this wasn’t what Abby needed. Oh, he’d hoped that encouraging her to actually talk to the brother she’d recently discovered would be enough to settle her again, but he _knew_ what Abby really needed and, truth be told, he was scared that he didn’t have it to give to her.

Despite the fact that Abby’s initial meeting with her ‘new’ brother went well, and settled her well enough to get a complete night’s sleep on his sofa – with hindsight, it was probably the ‘his sofa’ as much as anything else that had done the trick that night.

So it was with little surprise that a few nights later Gibbs found himself once again answering the phone to Abby at 3am – mind you it wouldn’t be so bad if he himself could get to sleep much before that time, but he wasn’t telling Abby that.

Four long months this had gone on, not every night, but most nights. Abby had nightmares and rang Gibbs for comfort when she woke from them. Of course he’d known by the third time she’d done it that _he_ was what she needed, but he just couldn’t take that step to help either of them. Some nights he’d still been awake when she phoned, working tirelessly on some project because he couldn’t sleep either; other nights he’d actually had a few hours sleep before she called, but the worst nights were the ones where he’d barely got to sleep himself before his phone rang.

He knew it couldn’t go on - for either of them. They both needed sleep, even if they were both used to surviving on only small amounts for days at a time, there was a limit to the sleep deprivation that the body could cope with before the mind ceased to function properly – something he was well aware of.

Something had to change, and when his hope that Abby’s reunion with her brother, Kyle, would be enough had proved to be in vain he knew he had to act. Maybe, just maybe, he could give her what she needed – what they both needed? – without going beyond the point of no return...

That night, after it became obvious that Abby was still not over the nightmares, Gibbs found her where he expected her to be at 7 in the evening – occupying herself in the lab, apparently doing nothing in particular.

She offered him a tired smile when he appeared at the doorway, but the fact that she didn’t throw herself at him to hug him was a clue as to just how tired she really was.

“Abbs.” She looked back at him, detecting an unfamiliar hint of uncertainty in his voice – and then it was gone, replaced with more familiar command:

“Don’t know if you had plans, but they’re cancelled. You’re coming with me.”

He waited while she removed her lab-coat and gathered her things, noting absently that she really had been killing time as her babies had already been shut down for the night,  and she was ready to go with him in a couple of minutes.

He stood back to allow her out the lab in front of him and then fell into step alongside her, his hand gently pushing her at the small of her back to precede him into the lift and through doorways, and then toward his truck once they’d entered the car park with:

“Leave you car here. Not sure you aren’t too tired to drive anyway.”

Once back at Gibbs’ house, Abby watched in companionable silence, leaning on the door frame, while Gibbs made them a couple of sandwiches and then led them to his sofa to eat.

When Gibbs had finished his sandwich and Abby had eaten most of hers Gibbs pushed the plates away and put his arms round Abby drawing her to him as he sat back on the sofa and letting her rest her head on his shoulder, where he began to untie her pigtails.

“What are we gonna do with you, Abs? You need to sleep. I need to sleep. This can’t go on.”

There was a muffled sob against his neck in reply.

“Yeah. I know.”

They stayed like that for a while. He hadn’t intended it, but by the time Gibbs finally moved Abby had almost dozed off in his arms. Gibbs got up, leaving Abby on the sofa and immediately turned and dropped to his knees to work on the buckles of her chunky boots, removing each one in turn and then the skull and cross-bones socks that had been hidden beneath them. He massaged the sole of each foot in turn, eliciting a groan of pleasure from Abby before dropping both her feet to the floor, standing up and tugging her upright.

Still holding her hand he led her to his bedroom.

Abby was tired enough to accept being led, no flirting, none of the wise-cracks that would have come from an alert and caffeinated Abby being led into his private bedroom.

Gibbs positioned her alongside the bed, about a foot away from it and commanded:

“Stay!”

Then he stood behind her and reached round, gently but efficiently undoing the buttons of her blouse, before removing it and putting it neatly on the chair behind him. He turned back to Abby and began caressing her, large warm fingers tracing along her neck and shoulder and down her arms. He leaned in and nuzzled at the spider-web tattoo on her neck pressing tiny kisses to it. He pulled back and unclasped her bra, barely touching her as he dropped it off her shoulders and put it to one side.

Next came her belt and skirt and then he moved in close behind her, large hands gently covering her ribs, not quite cupping the underside of her bare breasts before running his hands over her torso and stomach – almost a lover’s touch, but not quite, sensual yet not quite sexual. Standing close behind her he felt Abby shiver as his fingers bypassed where she really wanted him to touch her – where _he_ really wanted to touch her – snagging the waistband of her underwear with a couple of fingers and drawing them down for her to step out of.

Abby tried to turn, but he gently held her shoulders to keep her facing forward.

“I said stay.”

For a moment he massaged her neck and collarbones and then skimmed his warm hands over the bare flesh of her back and the cool flesh of her bare buttocks. Then the touch was gone. She heard him rummage briefly in a drawer and then,

“Arms up,” was followed by one of his T-shirts being tugged over her head, and then a tap to each ankle encouraged her to lift her legs in turn to step into a pair of his boxers.

Then he pulled the covers back and gently ushered her into his bed.

Relaxed beyond belief, tired and more than a little turned on by Gibbs’ touch and attention Abby watched as Gibbs turned his back on her and unashamedly stripped himself, modestly keeping his back to her but leaving nothing to her imagination as he bent over to remove his pants and underwear and replace them with a clean pair of boxers to sleep in.

Then he climbed into bed next to Abby, gently urged her onto her side so that he could spoon up behind her, pushing her T-shirt high up her back to give them skin to skin contact and placing a possessive splayed hand against her stomach – his semi-hard dick nestling against her butt cheeks through the fabric of the shorts they both wore.

Warm, comfortable and wrapped safely in Gibbs’ arms Abby drifted into nightmare-free sleep.

End (of original standalone, now 1st chapter of several!)


	2. The First Week

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: OK, so this has taken on a life of its own. I’m doing a number of things that I swore I’d never do, like posting a multi-chapter story without finishing it first. It wasn’t supposed to be multi-chapter, but it is almost finished and totalling something of the order of 6k words all in. The style changes part way through, but I think I’m gonna go with that.

He’d known this wasn’t a good idea all along, which was why he’d resisted for so long. But he’d overlooked things too. He could control his mind, but the reaction of his body was another matter. Both mind and body wanted sex with Abby, and with her here in his bed all warm, soft, sexy curves and the uniquely intoxicating scent that was his Abby - if the mind wasn’t going there, the body wasn’t to be denied. Gibbs slept well; they’d gone to bed very early by his standards, shortly after 10pm, so he’d had best part of a refreshing 7 hours sleep when he woke at 5 the next morning. In that respect his actions had been a success; the matted, itchy feeling in his shorts though was not such a success and something he’d failed to consider, although he’d slept deep enough to not even be aware of his wet dream at the time.

In fact he’d slept far better than he had in a long time, even before the bomb went off at the Navy Yard; better than he’d slept with any woman who had shared his bed in recent times – and he was _not_ going to examine that stray thought too closely.

Gibbs disentangled himself from Abby and went into the bathroom where he dealt with business and cleaned himself up. Putting on a clean pair of boxers he returned to the bed and snuggled back up to Abby – allowing himself the comfort as well as her. He dozed lightly for a while before he felt Abby stir at last.

A good night’s sleep had done wonders for her too, and almost immediately she had turned in his arms and he was trying to fend off wandering hands.

It took him grabbing hold of both her wrists and growling at her before she stopped trying to touch him anywhere; once she’d finally stilled, he kissed her on the forehead and then looking into her eyes emphasized:

“Abby, I’m offering sleep here, not sex. You can sleep with me, as long as that’s all you do.”

Abby pouted and wiggled against him, so he tightened his grip on her wrists, but finally she nodded acquiescence.

“But we can do this again?” He had to smile at the eagerness in her voice.

He sighed wearily. “Yes, you can sleep with me, in my bed – for a while. And I don’t mind you touching me, just mind where, I am NOT going to have sex with you.”

She threw her free arm around his chest and wriggled the one she was laying on between him and the mattress and gave him a relatively chaste hug, although he mentally rolled his eyes as her movement squashed his quiescent dick between their hip bones and the pressure provoked a reaction.

Abby felt it too and commented into his shoulder:

“Are you sure? I can feel some interest.”

“Abs, you are a wonderful woman, and I’m not dead, what do you expect?”

Then he was saved by the alarm. With an affectionate slap to Abby’s rump Gibbs disentangled himself from her again and headed for the shower – starting with it on cold.

~oOo~

Most of the drive in to work was in companionable silence, Gibbs was happy enough to be allowed to keep his mind on the driving rather than try to follow Abby’s thought processes in conversation. He was pleased though to sense that she was far more alert in the passenger seat than she had been on the drive home the previous night.

They were almost at the Navy Yard when it suddenly occurred to him:

“You’re going to tell DiNozzo that we slept together last night, aren’t you? You’re going to get him all wound up imagining something that didn’t happen and then I’m going to have to slap him into next week, aren’t I?”

Gibbs glanced across to Abby, who smiled angelically back at him. Yeah, that was his Abs and, truth be told, he enjoyed the innuendo and the flirting with her.

~oOo~

Gibbs was already at his desk when Tony arrived, just a little before McGee and Ziva, and Gibbs beckoned him over to stand in front of his desk.

“Boss?” DiNozzo looked down at the seated man.

“DiNozzo. Don’t take everything Abby tells you today at face value, or you’d better invest in a good helmet.”

Tony stood there for a minute looking puzzled as he mentally re-ran what Gibbs had just told him and still came up blank.

Gibbs looked up from his computer again and waved Tony away. “Haven’t you got work to do?”

~oOo~

A call came in and soon they were hard at work on a case so it was mid-afternoon before Tony got to visit Abby’s domain, expecting to find the worn out occupant that he’d come to recognise and hate in recent weeks. He was therefore surprised to find her almost back to her usual self – full of real beans, and not just caffeine powered, although that was obviously there too.

It made a nice change to be greeted with a “Tony” and a bone-crushing hug again; maybe things were finally getting back to normal.

“Wow, Abs, you’re looking well today!”

“Well Gibbs let me sleep with him last night and...”

Tony held his hands up in horror, the picture those few words brought to mind was quite enough, he _did not_ want her to finish that sentence. The little devil at the back of his mind that wondered about Gibbs’ super powers – particularly the way Gibbs walked in on them so often halfway through a conversation that he really shouldn’t have heard, or even been able to overhear, and apparently knowing all that had been said before he arrived - he didn’t want to consider what super powers Gibbs might have in bed that could revive a tired Abby. Or maybe he did? No! Much as he enjoyed speculating on his co-workers’ sex lives, there were some places that he didn’t want to go.

Forgetting just why he’d gone to Abby’s lab in the first place, Tony beat a hasty retreat. The wicked smile on Abby’s face unseen.

~oOo~

A little while later, the whole team gathered in Abby’s lab to hear what she’d found, before heading off to the address on the post-it note she stuck to Gibbs’ jacket.

Tony found himself watching in fascination as Gibbs proffered the usual “good work, Abs” kiss, shivering as he imagined the two of them together, kissing in a totally different way. And leaving McGee and Ziva puzzled as Gibbs swiped him upside the head with a “What did I tell you, DiNozzo?” as he swept out of the lab.

~oOo~

The case wrapped up fairly neatly, they had apprehended their suspect at the address Abby gave them and he was currently down in interrogation spilling his guts to Ziva and McGee. Gibbs and Tony were working on their reports and then Tony was listening in on the phone conversation that Gibbs was having with someone.

“...nearly finished, you go on home and I’ll see you there if you want. Well, if you want to... You saw the refrigerator this morning, we need groceries for that... OK, I’ll see you later.”

Tony wasn’t accustomed to overhearing domestic conversations from Gibbs. The man just didn’t make calls like that from his desk. Was that Abby he was talking to? Had the bombing made him lose his mind? Tony’s head hurt.

~oOo~

Abby called by her apartment on the way home to collect her own pyjamas and some other clothes and then went grocery shopping and was still home before Gibbs, who found he rather liked coming home to the smell of food cooking, and Abby in his kitchen dressed in old casual wear rather than her usual work attire. He showered, making sure that there’d be no repeat of the wet dream overnight, and changed into long shorts and a t-shirt, returning to the kitchen with still-damp hair to help Abby with their meal.

This second night together set a pattern: they ate and cleared up together whilst talking about everything and nothing. When they’d finished Abby pointed Gibbs in the direction of his basement with a little shove and settled down with her laptop – making use of the internet connection the team had had McGee set up for Gibbs because everyone else on Gibbs’s team wanted internet access available at Gibbs’ house at some time or another even if the owner didn’t.

Late, but not too late, Gibbs bounded back up from the basement and they went up to bed together, comfortably working round each other for the bathroom as if they had been doing it for years. Abby was the last to bed and sat on the edge with her back to him to remove her pyjama top before settling down.

“Abs...” Gibbs warned, but she just looked at him over her shoulder and poked her tongue out at him before settling under the covers with her back still to him. They each scooted toward the centre of the bed to spoon together and Abby offered, “I like the skin to skin contact too” by way of explanation. He couldn’t argue with that.

Day three progressed much like the previous one, work allowed them to drive home together with neither having to stay late. The other big difference was that Abby woke them both again in the wee small hours with another nightmare – but instead of being woken by his phone and then having to take the time to talk to Abby to calm her Gibbs only had to wake enough to snuggle her a little tighter and stroke a soothing hand along her flank before they both soon settled back to sleep.


	3. Holding Back

So Gibbs and Abby settle into a sort of cosy domesticity, somewhere between room-mates and an old married couple chastely sharing a bed. Abby barely suffers from the nightmares now when they sleep together, but invariably they return if the pair sleep apart for any reason and Gibbs steadfastly refuses to acknowledge to himself that he himself sleeps better in the same bed with Abby - and that really he rather likes sharing his life with her.

‘A while’ turns into several months, with Gibbs resigned to the fact that a night in a motel near a distant crime scene for him means a night disturbed by a call from Abby whether she is sleeping alone in his bed or has returned to her own apartment for the night.

The team are now fully aware of the ‘change’ in Gibbs relationship with Abby. Ziva shrugged it off as none of her business; Tim has the air of a kicked puppy, offended that his past relationship with Abby has not been enough for her to seek comfort in _his_ arms; and DiNozzo oscillates between disbelief that a man still in the prime of his life, like Gibbs, can keep his hands off a woman like Abby, and the odd wistful comment about ‘puppy piles’ that makes Abby think that he is in need of comfort of his own. DiNozzo, being DiNozzo, keeps wheedling at Abby that the ‘old man’ must have a problem if they are not consummating the relationship, unable to comprehend that the old man’s problem is not physical but mental – a fear that acknowledging his real feelings for Abby will destroy their friendship.

Director Vance - despite losing an almighty battle with the Team Leader over Abby seeing the shrink brought in to talk to everyone at the Navy Yard following the bombing - has accepted Gibbs’ assurances that the arrangement is just to help Abby with her nightmares. As nothing seems different in their relationship at work – except that two off his best employees seem to be the most well-rested and relaxed he’s ever seen them – he has reserved judgement until such a time as it actually presents him with issues to deal with.

The one thing Gibbs and Abby haven’t addressed is their sex lives. Without sex in the relationship they could almost be described as having an open ‘marriage’, yet neither have had a partner since the bombing, let alone since they began sleeping together. They touch and caress - almost, but not quite, as lovers; creating desire in and for each other, yet that is a line Gibbs is still not prepared to cross with Abby and one that she mostly accepts for fear of being turned out of his bed for good. She loves the new closeness that has developed between Gibbs and herself and enforced celibacy with him seems a more attractive option than the freedom to have an active sex life without him. Besides, for all of his legendary control there can only be so much of it, and Abby plans on being here when it finally runs out...

* * *

Cases come and go, and the team notice that Gibbs actually seems to take more care of himself when they are putting their lives on the line; a certain recklessness that they have always known him for seems to be gone. He is more willing to wear his flack vest when they anticipate being shot at.

With two people in his house, and sharing the cooking, there is more point to cooking rather than takeaway and the improvement to Gibbs’ diet is subtly showing in a slightly reduced waistline and renewed ability to give DiNozzo more than a run for his money in the gym and when pursuing suspects – although he is still the master of heading off their suspect and leaving his younger team members to wear themselves out in the chase.

More than six months have passed since the bombing and over three since Gibbs and Abby have been conducting this unconventional relationship. In reality Abby has almost moved in with him, spending most evenings at Gibbs’ house with him and sharing his bed. Mostly they eat together and spend the evenings at his house doing their own thing, but she still has regular forays back to her apartment on weekends and some evenings to do chores and collect mail – as well as adding to the growing collection of her clothing now accommodated in his bedroom.

Gibbs wonders if he should ask her to move in, but that too is something he feels he can’t quite deal with. His, unacknowledged, irrational mind thinks of this as a betrayal of his first love, a notion that is in reality laughable considering that he had no issues with entering into three further marriages in the years following Shannon’s death.

His rational mind is wary of ruining the friendship he shares with Abby by turning it into a ‘relationship’, he is blind to the fact that it is that very friendship which provides the solid foundation for a romantic relationship and which is exactly what was lacking with his three failed marriages. He’s spent so many years looking for a replacement for his dead wife without ever realising that there could never be a _replacement_. What he needs is someone with their own unique place in his life and Abby carved that out years ago – co-existing with his love of his lost family, neither threatening of it nor threatened by it.

For all his intuition and his famed gut he cannot see that sometimes a relationship grows and changes all of its own volition; cannot see what is right in front of his nose.

Until...


	4. Denouement

Saturday afternoon: He hadn’t expected her to be back when he got home, although it warms his heart to see her car out front when he returns from the hardware store. Yet there’s no sign of her downstairs and, with his customary speed and stealth, he scales the stairs to the bedroom to see if she is there. The breathy moan that he hears freezes him before he charges into the bedroom and instead he silently materialises in the doorway.

Abby is lying on the bed with her skirt up, and her knickers off, pleasuring herself. The sight turns him on and angers him in equal measure. She is lying on their bed - and just when did his bed become their bed? - blatantly masturbating, where he could - and just did – walk in on her. At least _he_ has the decency to take care of himself in the shower where she isn’t going to interrupt him; besides, she’s been at her apartment all morning, why couldn’t she have done this in her own home where he wouldn’t find her?

 _Where she couldn’t tempt him_.

He wants to be the one making her moan and sigh like that. He wants her touch on the heated flesh that is now straining against the fly of his jeans.

He should turn around and go sand his boat for the next few hours - to relieve his frustration - after a quick jack off in the basement. He should ignore what he’s just seen and not think about it ever again, but with two hot heads working as one - rather than let sleeping dogs lie - he walks into the bedroom with an angry roar of her name,

“Abby!”

Surprised by him and shocked at being caught, like a child in her father’s house, Abby goes from reclining on the bed to upright and facing off with him in what seems like a single leap. She’s angry, too; she hadn’t expected or intended him to find her like this, assuming that she’d be done before he got back, or at the very least, hear him return home – forgetting that he’s always been a master of stealth. After a busy morning getting things done at her apartment, a little personal pleasure had been a spur of the moment idea on finding herself alone back in his house. What’s a girl to do when the man she is sleeping with refuses to do more than sleep...? It’s not as if he couldn’t or didn’t want to, physically - snuggling as closely as they have been over recent months they are both well aware that his body responds enthusiastically to her presence – it is one thing he can’t hide from her – so he’s obviously been taking care of himself in private, and Abby is angry that he seems upset at her for responding to her own needs. She shouts her defence at him in irate words.

This is several levels of fucked up: they’re having a lover’s tiff over sex when they aren’t _even_ lovers. He’s done his best to protect her from... himself - and that’s not a revelation he wants to deal with either.

Abby is standing there, green eyes blazing and shouting at him but he’s not even aware of what she’s saying. He brings a hand up toward her head, dimly aware that she flinches from him - and that’s not right either – but she’s got no idea what is coming next and nor has he... until he cups the back of her neck with his left hand and gently draws her to him, silencing her tirade very effectively by lowering his head and pressing his lips to hers. For half a second she struggles against him before both of them realise what he has done and he can see her eyes grow wide with surprise.

This. This is what they were fighting over: the fact that he wouldn’t let them go here when really he knew damn well that it was what they both so desperately wanted.

They should pull apart, stop this madness, but he feels Abby melt into him, accepting his tongue as he desperately seeks entrance to her mouth. His anger vanishes, her anger vanishes, unbridled passion filling the void. He wraps his other arm around her body and for once it is he giving the bone crushing hug as he can’t get close enough to her. He feels hot and cold; his skin is too tight. Everything is wrong except where they are joined, tongues duelling, as Abby puts as much into the kiss as he does.

Somehow they gravitate toward the bed, their kiss jolted apart as they keel over onto the mattress and his lips find her neck instead. Instinct is finally taking over – all those nights spent skin to skin in a chaste embrace and now there are far too many clothes between them.

With fewer buttons in her way, Abby has easily burrowed under several layers of T-shirt to find the smooth warm flesh of his flank, caressed her way across his stomach and followed the fur trail south where she is working his belt buckle, all the while her head thrown back, her throat bared to his biting, sucking kisses.

His own clumsy fingers make little progress with her slightly more delicate clothing. He feels his belt buckle releasing and then Abby has her prize, cool fingers stroking him and doing anything but cool his ardour.

Somehow she’s achieved what he couldn’t and shed her top, leaving him to dispose of her bra which he does manage easily – and _without_ ripping it off her – before feasting on the closest nipple. His warm hands are large enough to accommodate a butt cheek in each palm, and due to her earlier activity there is no underwear between her and his hands.

Flat on his back, a slight lift of his hips and he’s free enough of his pants and underwear for Abby’s purposes, even if he is still largely imprisoned by the denim. He’s not used to being underneath – he’s always been a giver as well as a taker, but usually from above and in control – now Abby has the upper hand, literally, and positions herself above him, lining up perfectly to sink slowly and delightfully all the way onto his hips in one smooth movement.

The bed is low enough that he still has his feet flat on the floor which gives him leverage to meet Abby’s movements; thrusting up into her while she rides him. It’s all over so fast that he should feel embarrassed, but Abby has reached her climax too and happily collapses against him, kissing and nibbling at his neck. After all, the foreplay for this encounter has been drawn out for months, if not years.

As the adrenalin of the fight drains away and the post-orgasmic hormones take effect they both doze lightly for a while cuddled together. Miraculously he’s stayed hard enough that Abby remains impaled on him - as he discovers when he bucks his hips slightly to get her to move - and the sensation, unlike anything he’s experienced recently, takes his breath away. Realising that they are still joined a slow smile creeps across Abby’s face and she pushes herself up a bit, hands resting on his shoulders. Gibbs, too, is smiling now, a brilliant, joyous smile that Abby has put on his face and one that she would love to see more of.

She leans in for another passionate kiss, wiggling her hips for friction. Gibbs cups the back of her head, holding her in place for the kiss as they devour each other, whilst his other hand roams over whatever naked flesh he can find and then delving between them for the bundle of nerves that gives Abby such pleasure. He tries to turn them over so that he is on top, but his leverage is minimal while his legs are still bound together just above the knee with the constricting denim of his jeans.

Their first time was so quick – too quick – that Gibbs had little choice but to cede control to Abby, now he wants control back and is unable to achieve it easily so growls in frustration. Abby giggles at the growl - and the reason for it - which she can feel by his ineffectual movements. This is more how it should be, mutual pleasure and laughter, not angry sex.

She rolls off of him, carefully allowing him to slip from her body as she does so, and they pause long enough to shed the remaining clothes that they are still wearing; unfairly Gibbs is still mostly clothed – something else that is all wrong about their first time - but too late now.

Round two is altogether slower and more sensual. Gibbs learned young to be a considerate lover - that there is pleasure to be had in giving pleasure to your partner – and Abby is Abby with an instinct for such things. The touches and caresses that they have shared in recent months take on a whole new meaning for them now that they are actively seeking out the erogenous zones of the other rather than deliberately avoiding them.

It is a heady feeling for Gibbs that he can make Abby shiver and mewl merely by running his hand over her bare flesh the way he runs it over recently sanded wood, the silky softness might be the same, but no boat ever responded to his touch the way she does, with twitching muscles and throaty giggles. Abby loves being stroked by him, anywhere he wants to touch her. That rush of power is all the stronger because he knows her so well out of bed. She’s prepared to give him _most_ of the control, but she does make him work for it.

Certainly she’s not prepared to lie back and put up with it, while he does all the work, which has been the preferred technique of more than one of the pretty redheads he’s had liaisons with in recent years, this is mutual lovemaking, mutual pleasure and discovery, which takes him back to his days as a newly married man with Shannon.

For a moment he falters, the revelation hitting him like a bucket of iced water and bringing him back down to earth for the first time since he stood in the bedroom doorway some hours earlier. This is the other reason why he shied away so hard from taking this final step with Abby.

He swallows around the lump in his throat, but Abby senses the change immediately, running her hand soothingly up and down his back as they lie face to face and stroking his now slightly stubbly chin with the hand that is mostly trapped under her. For once she is the one with the intuition.

“Shannon would be happy for you, Gibbs. I like to think she’d be happy for us.”

He feels a rush of love for this woman, the only woman who has ever understood that at times he is in bed with two women, one real and one a ghost, not that he’s ever actually told any of his past women about the lost love who still haunts him, but Abby knowing and understanding is another part of what makes things so different now.

It’s Abby who finally decides that he’s had enough recovery time and ups the pace a notch, she starts worrying at his nipple with her teeth, enough to hurt him a little, but pleasurable pain. When he first met her he wondered if there was more to the collars she wears than just a fashion statement and the thought occurs to him again as she works her way around his body: lightly scratching, nipping and grazing her teeth over sensitive skin.

His attempt to take control back yet again, by rolling on top of her, is met once more by her wriggling out from under him. This time he allows her to arrange him to her liking: sat up and mostly propped against the headboard where she can sit in his lap, leaving them both with their arms free to touch and cuddle and continue kissing passionately. Actually that is fine by him as he can’t get enough of her. This might be more effort than the missionary position but it is more rewarding too.

When they are finally spent and reluctantly pull apart, Gibbs is ready to sleep for the night, but as it’s only early evening and his stomach rumbles loudly it’s time to have something to eat.

They dress, padding down to the kitchen in bare feet. Abby has been a good influence on him: there are portions of lasagne - stuffed with plenty of veggies as well as the beef - in the refrigerator waiting to be micro-waved. Fast food in the Gibbs’ household is no longer takeaway, and while they are waiting for the food to heat up he looks her over in the harsh light of the kitchen.

Now would not be a good time for any of their friends to pay them a visit. Abby’s neck and shoulders are peppered with small love bites and he is almost shocked to see what he has done to her. She realises what he is looking at and pulls him over to the mirror to look at his own reflection, lifting his T-shirt and giggling as his eyes widen at just how many bruises he is now sporting on his neck and chest as well.

Abby throws her arms round his waist and cuddles up to him: “Guess we got a little carried away, but in a good way... I haven’t hurt you, have I? You haven’t hurt me. A little pain is good, really good.”

This woman will be the death of him, but in the meantime she is offering a whole new life for him if he will just let himself accept her fully into that life.

End - and yes I really mean it this time!


End file.
